Get Woke
by The Blocked Writer
Summary: Random Idiot plus Fire Emblem Awakening equals Fanfiction. (Awakening SI/OCI; no pairings yet; Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or any other licensed material.)
1. Chapter 1

Lots of things are overrated.

Among these things, consider sanity.

* * *

 _ **You're (not) Reading in the Wrong Direction**_

 _Chapter One - Once Upon a Video Game_

* * *

I'd like to say it started with some sort of mystical whoosh or something like that, but then that would be a lie.

It was kind of like walking through a door, except without the door part. Or the walking, actually. I was sitting in my office chair, pondering whether or not I should play more Overwatch or finally get back to playing Trails of Cold Steel when, all of the sudden, the universe decided to send me on a big rousing session of neither. The world around me was swept away in a iris slow wipe transition, the other side of which was my destination. My chair vanished, at which I found myself sitting on the damp ground in the middle of a grassy... hilly... _knollish_ kind of place.

To make matters worse, I suddenly found something different about my immediate person. Looking down, I found that I was no longer wearing my trusty old t-shirt and nylon shorts. Instead I'd been reduced to a lousy red tunic shirt with numerous patches sewed on, some brown pants that appeared to be held up by a rope rather than a belt, and a pair of leather boots that had certainly seen better days. I even pulled some of my hair into view to make sure it was still black. It was, thank goodness.

And yet, just like that, my life had taken a sudden and drastic change for the worse.

Oh yeah, and then I screamed. It was a manly scream, but a scream nonetheless. Subtlety? Bah! I could be subtle when I was dead.

Time passed. I did eventually stop screaming, if only because I'd run out of breath and realized that it wasn't really accomplishing anything. Instead I rolled up into the fetal position and attempted to think of an excuse as to why this had happened. I thought of a few, the most traction being under the idea that this might all just be a dream. Unfortunately I lacked any real way to convince myself of this. I was terrible with dreams, almost never remembering them after waking up. All I could be certain of was that this definitely didn't feel like any dream I'd had prior. Thus I concluded that it was probably real.

Had I not been sick of it, I might've screamed again.

More time passed. I eventually stood up and pondered where I should go. My options were rather open at this point, considering that there didn't appear to be any sort of path to guide me around the open landscape. The terrain was hilly, but otherwise not all that vicious. At the worst, I might scrape up against some briars in a patch of brush, but I could avoid those if I was willing to get busy walking. The boots might've been old, but they were surprisingly comfortable. In fact, all of my newfound garments felt as if they'd been with me for quite a while, meaning they were comfy and, most importantly, mine to have. Travelling in them wasn't going to be a problem.

A few mouth-breathing moments later, I picked a direction and started walking. I picked this way because it had the tallest hill. Hopefully the top of it would provide a vantage point from which I could spy a new destination, preferably one with a warm bed and no shortage of answers. Luckily I'd very recently lost a bit of weight walking. What's the best way to play Fallout 4? On a treadmill, of course.

It took me what felt like an hour to reach the top of the hill, though it was more likely to have only been fifteen minutes or so given how fast I walked. From the top I was allowed to look out into the land and hunt down any potential rescue. Sure enough, I managed to find… _something_. It didn't look like rescue. In fact, it looked like it had been burned down recently. There was a thin cloud of what I guessed to be ash drifting in the direction opposite me, blown by a breeze at my back. At the cloud's base were several charred outlines of what I assumed to be houses.

A hamlet, recently put to the torch for some reason.

Not spying any other clue from my vantage point, I slowly made my descent towards the remains. It took another long string of minutes, but I eventually got close enough to where I could see the place plainly. For better or worse, my initial observations had been spot-on. This was indeed a recently burned down village, and there didn't seem to be a soul in sight. Not that I could blame anyone for not sticking around. The air was a little thick with ash once you got amongst it all.

"Chrom, look!"

And yet, strangely enough, the place had managed to attract some other visitors.

Around from behind a relatively intact house, I spied something yellow throwing a finger in my direction. Focusing on it, I found what appeared to be a young lady in a dress of the aforementioned color. Her blond hair was done up in some high-flying pigtails, face framed by a long headdress of connected buttons. Oddly ornate. Very distinguishing.

As you might expect, I recognized her pretty quickly. Had I not been frozen in place by shock, I might've squawked in terror.

"YAAGH!"

...Or maybe I squawked anyway. I do that more often then I should, honestly.

Regardless, I eventually summoned the will to turn tail and haul ass as two more recognizable individuals coming around the same corner she had come from. No doubt it was the local main protagonist, Lord Chrom, and his murderous man-servant, Sir Frederick. The last thing I needed on this valium trip of a nightmare was to get the shit kicked out of me by a couple of fictional characters, so I forgot about the mystery of the torched village and put all my focus in escaping-

 _Crick!_

"SH-!" I ate dirt.

I never saw the rock I tripped over. All I know is that it boned me good, turning my ankle hardcore and leaving me unable to escape from certain doom at the hands of a couple of heavily armed sheep herders.

Oh, and it hurt. Of course.

Before I could regain my senses, I found myself being turned over by a stiff metal hand. The ankle twisted again.

"Gyaaah!"

"He's injured."

No shit!

Above me now were indeed Chrom and Frederick. It was the armored knight who'd flipped me over, and he was currently giving me a glare that could immolate lesser plant life. No doubt my attempt at a hasty retreat had put him on high alert. In my defense, it was anticipation of this exact type reaction that made me want to run away in the first place.

"Looks broken," Chrom spoke first as he crouched down next to his bodyguard. He looked just like I would've expected. Blue hair, sharp features, a blue insignia mystically branded onto one of his shoulders. Y'know, the works for an anime-slash-game protagonist.

He wasn't exaggerating about my injury. A look down told me all I needed to know. Ow ow _ow **ow**_...

"I-I'm on it!" The yellow girl, whose name I remembered to be 'Lissa', had already sprung into action. She was rushing toward us with a crazy looking magic staff clutched in her hands. Unfortunately, Frederick the Wary held out a hand and stopped her before she could get close enough to use it.

"Caution, milady," he urged, not taking his eyes off me. He then spoke to me in the sternest tone I'd ever fallen victim to. "Tell us why you ran."

I had to reign in a growl at the demand. First the random teleportation, now this? I could tell by his tone that he suspected me of having some part in whatever disaster had passed through here.

"Because you're the only people standing in a burned down village," I eventually got out, half choking on the particulate-thick air. It was only here that I noticed that our valiant heroes all had the lower half of their faces covered. "I panicked and thought you might be the ones who burned it."

"Perhaps we should get him into the open air," Chrom suggested as I started up a coughing fit.

"Even if we don't do it for him, let's just get out of here," Lissa was quick to add her opinion before going on to mutter something about the impending ruining of her hair.

"Very well," Frederick agreed with a nod. This was followed by him looking up and whistling. Next thing I knew, a massive horse was emerging from around the same corner they'd all come from. I was unceremoniously thrown upon it, and we got ourselves away from the damnable place.

And then I was removed from the horse's back before I could even revel in the fresh oxygen. Frederick grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and threw me to the ground, something that was remarkably easy for him considering he had quite the height and weight advantage over me. The suit of full armor he was wearing didn't appear to slow him down in any way. By some stretch of a miracle, I kept my poor foot from slamming to the ground as well. That'd have been worth another squawk, no doubt.

"Frederick, please!" Chrom was quick to jump in and admonish his lieutenant. "There's no reason to be so rough with him."

"With all due respect, milord, he's the only person we've seen since we arrived in the area. We have no way knowing that he wasn't involved in what happened." Frederick replied, surprisingly calm as he took his lord's rebuff and countered with what I thought to be a decent argument.

In fact, it was actually the same exact argument I'd just used on them. Mysterious burned down village with no one around to tell the story? Who else could've done it but the next person you saw? A flawed argument, especially since I inwardly knew Chrom and company, thus also knew that they weren't the village burning types. They didn't know that though, hence the inward part. Also I'd been lying, but that was inward as well.

"I understand, but still, let's at least heal him up before we interrogate him," Chrom returned, just as calm. Nothing like a casual argument between civil beings, eh?

Frederick glared at me again. It wasn't a glare of disdain, mind. It was more… _suspicion_ , I supposed. And I understood why. Having made the stupid decision to try and run away from my problems, I now had the appearance of someone highly suspicious. That's why I wasn't making any further arguments in my defense. One must pay the consequences for their actions, or so I tended to believe.

Running away leads to suffering suspicion. Got it? Let's move on.

Lissa was eventually allowed to heal me. It was a strange feeling, particularly the part where the bones in my ankle unbroke and moved back into place. I'd never thought too much about healing magic before this. How exactly does it work? Is it manipulating time relative to the injured area or something? Or perhaps it does something on a molecular level. What if I…?

 _Crick._

"Aagh!" Or maybe it just set the bones and numbed the pain and I really shouldn't have moved it so soon afterward.

"Careful!" Lissa immediately reapplied the healing staff. "It won't heal correctly if you keep moving it out of whack. Frederick, are you ready with the splint yet?"

"Yes, milady," the knight replied as he came back from searching through their supplies. In his hand was what appeared to be the heel and ankle of a leather sneaker, except the sides were lined with wood to keep whatever it was applied to around from moving.

I was going to hate this. I just knew it.

My boot was off, allowing us the full view of my foot. The staff had set the bones, reduced the swelling, and cleaned up the worst of the bruising, meaning that now was the best time to get the splint in place. One bad twitch on my part and we'd be back at square one. Thankfully, Lissa was more than just a girl with a staff. She carefully and methodically applied the brace, tying each lace with expert care so as not to agitate the injury further. She must have trained as a nurse for quite a while to get so skilled.

"How's that?" she asked once the splint was finished.

"It's tight," I had to say. The pressure was rather annoying, and I didn't like it one bit. "But I guess that's the entire point."

"It'll keep you from messing it up again, that's for sure," Lissa said with an assuring smirk. Then she turned to where her protector was standing. "Okay, now you can question him. How about you do it _without_ the rough-housing this time?"

"If that is what milady wishes, I have no choice but to oblige," Frederick replied, his tone neither agreeable nor apologetic. Regardless, he moved up to me as she stepped away. He didn't bother to crouch and talk to me face-to-face, instead choosing to stand tall over me and peer over the rim of his armor.

"Did you have anything to do with the burning of this village?"

This shit again?

"No," I replied as quickly and calmly as I could.

"Where are you from? When did you arrive in the area?"

Oh shit. Now it was time for the real questions, wasn't it? I briefly thought about bluffing, stealing some places out of The Witcher or Dragon Age, but then I realized that I really didn't need to be telling any more lies. Especially not with Frederick looking primed to lift his boot up and stomp me like a cockroach.

"It doesn't matter where I'm from," I said. Not the most intelligent answer, but at least it didn't put any specifics on me. "But I will say that I only just arrived in this area today."

See, part of that was actually the truth. It wasn't the whole truth, but then telling them about the whole teleporting thing probably wouldn't have been much help to either side of the conversation.

Meanwhile, Frederick didn't seem to like part of my answer.

"Why does where you're from not matter?"

Holy shit… One of these days he'd have to take a break. Surely, right?

"I think that's enough, Frederick," Chrom finally decided to intervene before I could say something stupid and get my chest cavity turned into a hopscotch court.

"...Very well, milord," the knight said, though he didn't appear very pleased. His expression became distant as he walked back to his horse. If I had to guess, he was either trying to think of different approaches to questioning me or pondering different ideas as to who had burned down the village.

"Sorry about him," Chrom addressed me. Unlike Frederick, the noble Prince of Ylisse actually deigned to crouch and speak with me at eye-level. "Let's start over, shall we? I'm Chrom. What's your name?"

"Yuri," I answered through a sigh of relief. I had to be grateful, seeing as he'd both saved me from Frederick's incessant questioning _and_ introduced himself before I could accidentally call him by his name without having been told it.

"Well, Yuri, allow me to apologize for Frederick and his…" He paused, as if looking for a way to phrase it delicately.

"Don't worry about it," I shot him down. "I understand. It's really my own fault for running away like I did."

Chrom seemed taken aback somewhat at my reasoning, but didn't seem to want to argue. "I see," he said simply before turning back to Frederick. "Frederick. Do us a favor and let Yuri ride with you back to the city."

"Of course, milord."

The knight and I exchanged a very brief set of glances. He didn't seem to mind, but something told me that it wasn't going to be the gentlest of rides.

As I was loaded on the horse side-saddle, I couldn't help but think about how ridiculous this all was. Me? At the mercy of Chrom and company? Why? _How?!_ This had 'stupid' written all over it, and there wasn't an explanation or plan of escape in sight. I mean, sure. They didn't appear to have anything too sinister in store for me, but that didn't change the fact that they weren't real people. They were characters from a game. A fantastic game, but a game nonetheless. And now they were taking me into their care.

Was this even real? If felt real, especially the broken ankle part. But if it was real, then was everything else real too?

…

As I found myself struggling to stay on Frederick's horse, I silently pondered how painful falling off and breaking my neck would be.

* * *

 **This is what happens when new Fire Emblem games come out. I start writing shit about the previous ones.**

 **That said, here it is. What is it? It's a terrible start to what will likely be a terrible fic about a terrible guy having terrible adventures in I don't fucking know why the hell are you still reading this? I'm literally only posting this because I've written SO FUCKING MUCH in the last few months and haven't posted a single fucking iota of it. The last chapter of Needle doesn't count. I wrote that over a year ago.**

 _ **Reviews would be appreciated, if you can find the time. I know this story isn't that great, but any helpful tidbits you lovely readers could offer would be very helpful to me. I'm terrified of criticism, and thus haven't received very much of it over the years. So, if it's not too much of a bother, please leave a review concerning your thoughts on the chapter in the box below. No review will go unnoticed, even it's something as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_

 **That said, this has been The Blocked Writer, and I hope you're having a wonderful day.**


	2. Chapter 2

Riding side-saddle sucks.

Even if it's to keep your broken ankle from breaking further.

* * *

 _ **You Are (not) Funny or Clever**_

 _Chapter Two - You Were Expecting Peace and Quiet? How Foolish!_

* * *

I wasn't really sure what was going to happen next as we made the trek from the burned down village to wherever the hell they were taking me. Of course, I'd have had to be pretty paranoid to expect the events that did eventually befall us. If someone had showed me a picture of the most exciting parts, I'd have been highly skeptical.

That's what you get for expecting normalcy after you've been sucked into a video game. You start out wrong and just keep being wrong as life goes on.

The rolling hills eventually gave way to a considerably more flat area. It took us several hours to actually get there, but that's what marching does for you. It's gets you there _slowly_ , with time inching by at the speed of smell. As someone who has been a truck driver in a past life, I can tell you for certain that moving cross-country at walking pace sucks.

And it really didn't help that Lissa was there to try and talk my ear off.

"So, you wanna talk about where you're from now? No? That's okay. Well, I'm from Ylisstol. It's the biggest city on the whole continent, y'know. There are markets, parlors, restaurants, and a bunch cool stuff like that. My friends and I try to go out at least twice a week and see what's new. What kind of friends do you have? I've got Maribelle and Sumia, sometimes Ricken if he can spare the time from his studies. We'll go shopping and eating and watch duels at the arena. Oh! One time we were at the arena, and all of the sudden-"

That neck-breaking fall was looking more and more satisfying with every passing moment. And she went on for what felt like hours with it! If I had to hear one more story about how Sumia tripped and knocked something expensive over, I'd be forced to ask if the poor girl had yet died from head trauma. I knew she probably hadn't, considering that she was in the game and this definitely didn't appear to be taking place _after_ said game, but still. One can only fall over so many times without injuring themselves.

Anyway… What was I talking about?

"I have a question," I eventually spoke up while Lissa was catching her breath.

"What about?" the bubbly young lady asked once she was ready to resume.

"This 'city' you said you're taking me to," I went on. "You're not talking about Ylisstol, are you?"

"Unless you want to be nursing that ankle for the next several weeks, then yes," she told me matter-of-factly. "We know a good doctor you can see in town. He'll be able to fix you up good as new."

"What she means is that she's still in training and can't do more than she already has," Chrom inserted from where he was walking ahead of us.

Needless to say, Lissa took offense.

"Heeey! I'll have you know that I've been training extra hard!"

"Oh, so that's what you're doing when you sneak into the storage room and take naps. Training extra hard. I understand now."

As Lissa's face began to shift through various shades of anger, I took her answer to my question into account. A doctor in Ylisstol… I could imagine the benefits, considering the level of technology this world had. The bigger and more prominent the city, the more likely I was to come across someone who was up to date on medical practices. Or something like that. I also had to consider the fact that this world's primary form of healing came from magical rods that shone with mysterious green light.

 _Really gonna have to read up on magic at some point…_

Not understanding basic fundamentals of the world is a great way to get ostracised.

Meanwhile, Frederick wasn't saying much, though I assumed that he was plenty occupied in thinking about that village. Burned to the ground with no apparent survivors; it sounded like the work of brigands to me. And, if my vague memory of the game was correct, then brigands were precisely the thing our stalwart trio would be pursuing at a time like this.

"I wonder if Stahl has arrived in Lydes yet," Lissa spoke some time later, the argument between her and Chrom having settled down.

"If everything went according to plan, he should've arrived yesterday," Chrom stated. "He, Sully, Kellam, and Maribelle were to run the raid down south before splitting up. Sully was to ride back and report the results to Phila, while Kellam and Maribelle were to accompany the militia to the neighboring areas and check for anything they missed. Stahl, meanwhile, was to ride in and meet us today."

"Astutely remembered, milord," Frederick said with the _tiniest hint_ of patronizing wit.

"Thank you, Frederick," the young lord responded with what seemed to be genuine pride.

"And what inn were we to meet with Stahl at?" the knight followed up.

Chrom's face contorted. Lissa snorted while I forced myself to look away.

"It was…" He was trying, the poor guy. He was trying with all his might. "Don't tell me!"

"It starts with an 'M'," Lissa offered in assistance between snippets of smothered laughter. "You've been there before."

"Several times, I know!" Chrom stressed, looking as if he were somewhere between maybe remembering and never being able to remember for the remainder of his life. "The… Mangled Marmoset!"

 _What?!_

Lissa lost control of her giggling as Frederick let loose a groaning sigh. Had I not been so concerned with my balance on the saddle, I might've laughed as well.

"It's the Melodic Moose, milord." I suddenly began to feel bad for Frederick. Oh, the plight of a dedicated bodyguard-slash-caretaker.

Things went on like this for a few more hours. We passed into an area that felt a little more populated, with various farms and a few caravans popping up here and there. You could tell when we drew close to town though, mainly because the crop fields seemed to just fill up the landscape. It was like looking out on a fucking sea of wheat and other staple crops.

Which was _awesome_. Most of the places like this near where I lived had a few too many chemical plants and industrial factories nearby.

By the time we eventually arrived in the town of Lydes, it was getting on towards evening. The village was… _nice_ , I guess? It was hard for me to judge, as the realest medieval villages I'd ever experienced had been on the other side of a TV screen, not counting the incinerated one we'd been in just hours before. All I could be certain of was that the houses were intact, the people weren't dead, and the the local industry was that of crop farming. In the end, I was just happy that it wasn't currently under some kind of hellish bandit attack.

Could've done without that smell though. You know the one. _Fertilizer_ … or _animal shit_ , as I preferred to think.

Our entry into the tavern, which really was called the 'Melodic Moose', was eagerly awaited. Chrom had only just opened the door when a hail of cheers and praises came pouring in. Apparently the place was a big gathering spot for the town's working class, i.e. half the men within a ten mile radius. And every single one of them rose their stein to Chrom as he walked through. I guess being the leader of the most proactive military force in the nation was a great way to get yourself hailed as a hero.

Meanwhile, Frederick was sitting me down in a chair near the bar. Another person pulled up a second chair for my foot, and then I found myself locked into place. I couldn't move around independently with so many chairs and tables spread around, and the knight was looking ready to abandon me.

Speaking of Frederick, he whispered something to the nearest bartender before looking at me.

"Stay here. We'll retrieve you when we plan to leave."

And, just like that, I lost contact with the only thing connecting me to what I knew about this world and its story.

"Tell me, lad," the bartender Frederick had addressed, a grayed fellow with curly hair, spoke from where he'd taken up position near me. "You a friend of theirs?"

I cast a glance toward the back of the large main room of the tavern. I could see Chrom and Lissa proceeding up some stairs that lead through the ceiling and onto another level. Lissa saw me looking and offered a friendly wave, but Frederick caught up to her and gently pushed her to continue. They were gone before I could even think of what to say.

"I…" _Don't act like you know them!_ "Not really. They're just helping me out, with my bad foot and all."

"That sounds just like them," the man remarked, his hands busy cleaning a glass. "The 'helping you' part, that is. Not really all that surprising. The prince and princess have good hearts, bless them."

 _Someone's a fan._

"Can't argue with that," I said with a shrug. "They were all too eager to help me out when I got hurt."

"They're too soft-hearted," came a grumpy-sounding gravely kind of voice.

The bartender and I looked over to find the person who'd pulled up the chair for my foot. A closer look put some surprise in me, as it turned out that this person was in fact an older woman, her long dark gray hair sitting in a low-tied ponytail over their shoulder. Dark blue coat, sword in a sheath leaned against the bar.

She looked at me, hitting me with a firm glare. Hazel eyes bore into me across a scar that ran over her nose from one cheek to the other.

I nearly pissed myself.

"You always say that, Fran," the bartender called her out before I had the opportunity to buckle under her stare. She looked at him with clear agitation, only to retreat back to her stein instead of making a retort.

"Don't mind her, lad," I was told by the bartender, drawing me back to him. "What's your name?"

"Yuri."

"Yuri, eh? Well, I'm Harper," he informed me. "According to Sir Frederick, your orders are on the house. What do you need?"

My eyes widened. _Did he just offer me free food? Holy shit._

The next several hours were spent either getting my fill of the local menu or in decent conversation. I plied an excuse of not being from the area to ask some questions about where we were. Apparently Lydes wasn't too far from Ylisstol, and the Shepherds were common enough customers to have their own room upstairs. He went on to let slip that Chrom and company were probably here to unload some justice on a local band of neredowells, most likely the ones responsible for razing the village from earlier.

"They'll probably head out not long after dark," Harper told me in a hushed voice. A look out the window told me that 'dark' referred to 'now'. "You won't see 'em go though. No, they've got a little passage in their room that leads out through the back. They'll likely not return until sometime tomorrow, but don't you worry. They'll be back, and those rotten bandits? We won't be hearing from them again."

This was odd to hear. I'd never suspected to hear about something like clandestine night raids from the Shepherds, especially after all of Lissa's complaining in the games, but then I recalled the battle against Donny's bandits. It'd taken place at night, though I vaguely recalled time being of the essence then. In the end I just had to shake it off. Who was I to second-guess Chrom and company? They were the main characters here, not me.

In fact, judging by the woman in the coat's continued unhappy glances in my direction, I was apparently so unimportant that I might get my ass dragged out into the street and beaten up by an old woman. A few times she caught me staring at her and hardened her glare to make me avert my eyes. I don't know why I couldn't just ignore her. She was just so… _out of place_ , I suppose? Everyone else here appeared to be either simple laborers or cheap merchants. She looked much more akin to someone with a mercenary background.

She eventually got up, laid something that appeared to be money on the counter, and absconded to the upper floor.

I nodded off shortly after, by that time having long since devoured a decent bowl of vegetable stew and enough water to get me through the night.

When I awoke, it was because someone was breaking down the front door.

The building had gone dark, with most of the patrons having gone home. The only ones remaining were those passed out or still chatting through candles in the dimness. That put the total of people in the room at eight. Harper, one other server, two passed out fellows, three guys who had been speaking in hushed voices, and me.

Then the door was successfully broken down, and that number jumped up to twelve. A hefty guy with a literal axe to grind entered first, probably the culprit behind the door's removal from its hinges. After him walked a man with a sword and a woman with no apparent weapon. In the back was a man wearing an absurdly large pointed hat. There was also another large man with an axe standing outside the door, but he was outside and not included in my count of people in the room.

Thus...

 _Shit._

"Greetings and salutations, peasants!" the man in the hat declared as his accompaniment parted in front of him. "My name is Faust, and I shall be taking control of this tavern for the evening."

"Piss off!" one of the men who'd been chatting yelled in response.

Faust retorted by looking at the woman and nodding at the vocal man. This apparently was a signal for her to deal with him in such a way that sent a knife out from under her cloak and into his eye.

"Is there any more criticism of me to be voiced?"

Not a word was spoken to that.

"Excellent."

And that's the story of how Faust took control of the tavern.

"Who might be the proprietor of this delicatessen?" the aggressor asked as the swordsman he'd brought proceeded to light a lamp for the sake of illumination. I flinched at the improper use of 'delicatessen', but didn't say anything because I was on the other side of the room. Not because I was afraid. Definitely not that. Don't be ridiculous.

 _Please don't single me out and kill me. I've got a busted foot for crying out loud!_

Ignore that.

"That would be me," Harper stated in a voice that sounded more tired than afraid. "What exactly do you have in store for us, Mister Faust?"

"I'm glad you asked," Faust remarked, sounding rather civil as he spoke. "I hear that you've recently taken a guest in that closely resembles the prince of our lovely Halidom. All I need from you is the location of his room and the rooms of his two companions. The girl and the knight, if you require specifics."

Just Lissa and Frederick? I guess that made me chopped liver. _Handicapped_ chopped liver, even. He knew they were here, so he must've had someone see us enter town. But hey, at least that left me off the hit list, and that was just fine with me. Also, why was Lissa just ' _the girl_ ' to him? Did he not know she was the princess? He did seem awfully affable, as far as guys who take over taverns go. There was always the chance that he was actually a moron and didn't know what the hell he was doing. Anyone more dedicated to villainry would've had their information right. They'd also probably have brought more people and had them kill everyone. And they wouldn't have seemed this cordial either. I mean, apart from me, no one in the room seemed to be remotely scared of the guy. It was the knifey lady that had everyone on edge. Lead by example, man. C'mon…

"Ah, you there!"

It was Faust who had spoken, and it was me his finger was pointing out. All of his companions looked at me. My blood froze.

"I see that look you're giving me, and I would ask that you stop it."

For the record, I'd been looking at him with skepticism. Y'know, with the lowered brow, leering squint, and the pursed lips.

"Leave the crippled lad alo-"

"I don't recall requesting your advice on that matter, Mister Harper," Faust rebuked the tavern owner before the man could get all of his words out. "And you haven't answered my question. Where is Prince Chrom?"

"Answer him," the man with the sword implored, brandishing his weapon toward the poor tavern keeper.

Harper's eyes widened as they focused briefly on the sword. It wasn't exactly a pristine example of noble finery like Chrom's Falchion, but it certainly had an edge, meaning it could cut his throat just as easily. "Alright, alright. Upstairs, turn right and it's the one in the corner."

 _But he said that Chrom and them… Then whose room… What?_

"Handle it, would you?" Faust immediately asked of the woman, who simply nodded and moved upstairs with the swordsman in tow.

This left Faust and axe guy standing down here with us. They looked at us. We looked at them.

"Why do you want to kill the prince?" one of the guys who'd been sleeping earlier asked.

"It's simple, really," Faust stated. "You see, I represent a troupe of enterprising individuals who operate out of this region. Sadly, our dear prince and his merry band… _disapprove_ of our business. Thus, it is in my best interests to see him deceased. It's as simple as that, my good man."

"So…" The uneducated farmer appeared to be tossing those words around in his mind. "What?"

"He means we're bandits and the prince has been killing our friends," the axeman reiterated. The farmer promptly nodded in understanding.

Faust closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. I thought it was a little funny.

Then something hit the floor upstairs. Faust perked up.

"Ah, is that the work of an expert assassin I hear going on upstairs? Why, I do believe it is!"

"You'll never get away with this, Faust," Harper said, not having yet backed away from the bandits despite being unarmed.

The man gave the tavern keeper a grim look. "I do believe that's enou-"

Before Faust could finish, Harper produced something from his apron pocket and swung it in the eccentric man's direction. To his credit, it appeared that Faust wasn't just a smooth talker. He spun out of the knife's way and produced some danger of his own, though his was in the form of fire shooting from his hands. I fully expected Harper to burst into flames, but instead he pulled an even better dodge than Faust had. He ducked under the fire, spun towards the mage, and in one fell swoop sunk his knife into the bandit leader's neck.

Faust hit the floor, choking as blood gushed from the wound.

The axeman, who'd neglected to do anything to actually save his leader, was next. He slowly hefted his axe, only to sink back down as the knife was thrown into his lifting arm. Harper then pulled a second knife and moved in for the kill. The bandit simply wasn't fast enough to avoid being killed. His throat was cut, and he joined his leader on the floor.

But then there was the man who'd been watching the door. He came running through the room, pile-driving Harper and slamming him into the wall. I winced at the sound of wall boards buckling under the force, catching sight of Harper's face as the air was pushed from his lungs. To my surprise though, the old man kept a hold on his unthrown knife, a fact revealed when it was dug into the bandit's side in retaliation.

The wounded man backed off, releasing Harper so that he could reach for his injury. The tavern keeper was quickly picked up by the other server and one of the chatters. Clearly hurt, Harper shook as he forced himself to stand. The other two fellows were unarmed, leaving them practically defenseless as the bandit removed the knife from his side and readied his axe.

That was when something came tumbling down the stairs. That's right, we'd been so damn distracted by Harper's action that we'd missed a sword fight going on upstairs. Now crumpled up on the floor there was the bloodied form of Faust's swordsman, his nose broken and one of his hands missing.

It was quite the eye-catching sight, which explains why I didn't see the old woman from earlier jump over the bannister and drop her sword into the door bandit's back. She pulled the sword out, he hit the floor, and boom. Just like that, we were safe.

...sort of.

"Who sent assassins to my room?!"

 _Well that answers that question._

"Apologies, Fran," Harper coughed as he found his way to a chair. "I had to break them apart so I could handle them. That and I was confident you could take care of yourself."

Fran let her attention fall on the injured barkeep before looking at the two floored men that weren't her handiwork. "I suppose someone might call this a valiant effort, though I'd have expected at least three out of you before getting your arse crushed."

"Heh," the old man wheezed. "I've gotten rusty. Unlike you, I'm retired."

As this was going on the one-handed swordsman had stirred. Using whatever adrenaline he lad left, he quietly lifted himself up and began hobbling for the door. Unfortunately for him, I saw this and yelled.

"He's running!"

Fran turned. He was just about to clear the door when…

 _WHAM_

His head bounced off of the knight's chestplate like ringing a gong. This sent him stumbling backward, and he collapsed over Faust's body.

"Well… Hm," the armored man spoke as he stepped through the threshold. He wasn't a very distinct fellow. Short brown hair, eyes I couldn't find a color in. For reasons I could only guess, he was covered in blood. "I see I needn't have worried overmuch."

"Sir Horace," Fran acknowledged the man with a level of familiarity. "Let me guess. You took care of the rest?"

"There were a few more in the street, yes," he stated with a coy nod.

"A timely arrival," Harper asked. He was now being attended to by the other server, his shirt off to reveal emerging bruises on his torso. "What brings one of the duke's finest here?"

"The Duke of Rhea had me as part of the force assigned to meet with Prince Chrom and assist his campaign against the bandits in this area," the knight explained. "When we noticed this lot moving towards the village, His Grace assigned me the task of leading some of the men back here and acting in the village's defense."

"I see," Fran said with a scoff, taking the opportunity to pick up a chair and sit in it.

"What of the village? Is there much damage?" Harper took his turn to speak.

"None that I saw as we rode in. Most of them were simply waiting outside of this place."

"They were probably waiting for their leader," the barkeep remarked, looking at the remains of Faust.

Horace took this as a prompt to examine the body, turning it so that he could see the face. "He fits the description of the bandit's leader. They'll be disorganized without him at their hideout."

"Bloody idiots. Did they not think the prince was going to raid their place tonight?" one of the unnamed men had to ask.

"You're applying logic and clear thought to bandits," one of his contemporaries pointed out. "Did you hear the way he spoke? Guy must've been eating a lot of mushrooms to get so delusional."

"Can we count on you to keep watch into the night, Horace?" Harper asked of the knight, turning the conversation away from casual drug use.

"Of course, sir," Horace nodded. "I'll send some of the lads to collect the bodies."

"We'll take Dingo." The two chatters who hadn't been stabbed in the eye stepped up to their fallen comrade. "Poor sod. First his crops got blighted, and now this."

"Very well," Horace nodded, allowing the men to leave with their friend. "Good evening to the rest of you."

He left at that, cueing everyone in the room seemed to kind of… _slouch_ just a little. The deceased bandits were still present, and I suppose there was still the female assassin lying around somewhere upstairs, but at least the action seemed to be over for now.

"What a damn mess…" Fran grumbled before stomping over to the bar, coming up to me me as she did. She looked down at me with a grin of debatable amusement. "You look comfortable. The floor gone soft in that spot?"

Oh, did I not mention that I fell out of my chair at one point in a fit of sheer terror? It happens when you watch people get killed right before your eyes. You know how it goes… People die, you freak out, your ass hits the floor. Boom. Slapstick. Oh, and she'd been sarcastic about the comfort thing. It felt like I was sitting on a pile of splinters.

To my surprise though, the swordswoman wasted little time in helping me up and putting back into chair. She wasn't gentle about it or anything, but still. Did she suddenly get friendly every time she killed people?

"Harper! I'm getting drinks!" she yelled once I was in place.

"You're paying for them too!" the keeper replied between pained grunts. The server lad apparently wasn't doing a good job handling the aged fellow's injuries.

With permission gained, Fran proceeded behind the bar and broke out a pair of steins. She filled them both with wine before sitting down next to me and offering one to me. For some reason, I took it.

"It helps," she stated before taking a swig. "Calms the nerves."

I hesitated. Did my nerves really need calming to the point where I'd partake in underage drinking? Looking down at the magenta liquid that was resting in the stein, I noticed that it was rippling. Why? Because my hands were shaking.

I took a sip, if only to feel shameful as Fran's face curled into a satisfied smirk.

"That your first drink?" she asked, sounding pleased as she clearly knew the answer. My response was a cough as my throat struggled to put the liquid down. "Well, try not to choke to death on it. I'd hate to have deal with Frederick when he gets back to find you dead."

A few moments passed. She drank her wine plainly, as if it were simply a glass of water. I could barely get down two small sips before having to set the stein down.

"I don't understand," I found myself saying at some point.

I felt Fran gaze at me, though my eyes were staring aimlessly at a bent nail in the bar's wood. "Understand what?"

"...A lot of things."

"What's your name, kid?" she asked in response. This pulled me to look at her.

"Yuri," I answered.

"Yuri…" She took a second to choose her words. "Tell me something that you want to know."

I found myself taken aback by this. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "I mean I want to help you understand something. Give me a place to start at."

Unsure what to offer, I turned around as best I could and looked back out into the tavern. The duke's men had arrived and were handling the cleanup. Harper and his friend had vanished, as had the villagers. The most stand-out of sights was that of the men carrying the female assassin's body out. Her face was frozen in terror, blood splashed on her face and clothes from a vicious stab wound in her neck. Noticing this carried me to Fran's sword, which was sitting unsheathed next to her stool. She'd wiped it clean on her coat before sitting down, but the dark red stains couldn't be taken away so easily.

She'd killed them. So simply, she killed them. The assassin, the swordsman, the axeman… She'd killed them without even taking a single wound in return. I knew what I wanted to ask.

 _Why do you kill people?_

But that would've been tasteless.

"How did you get so strong?"

"Hard work and determination," she answered without missing so much as a beat. I suppressed a disappointed grunt, knowing that I'd just wasted that question.

But she was right, I knew. Hard work and determination. She'd gotten to where she was because she'd put in the time and effort.

What did that mean to me? What was I even doing here? All I'd done since arriving, even if it had only been about half a day, was break my ankle and watch as good people risked their lives to protect me. Heck, they hadn't even been protecting me! My presence had been circumstantial at best. It made me feel pointless and, even worse, useless. So I had to wonder if that was the way it was supposed to be… After all, I was technically supposed to be somewhere else right now. Back home, probably just getting in from work, tired and ready to sit down for the night.

A growl simmered out of me, at which I clenched my eyes and rubbed at my face. I needed to get back in the present. Reminiscing was unhealthy.

"You gonna finish that?"

I finally looked up, finding Fran leering at my abandoned stein.

"N-No," I stammered.

She wordlessly took it and took another swig. "You're a shittier drinking buddy than I expected."

"Well, I didn't exactly volunteer," I had to remind her.

"True, but, even if you're not going to drink, you could still banter with me."

"Tch," I almost scoffed. "What happened to helping me understand things?"

"I said 'one thing'," she said, nearly choking on another drink of wine. "I'm a mercenary, not a school teacher."

I couldn't stop a deep sigh from breezing out. "Fine then. What would you like to talk about?"

"Well… What do you do?"

"I'm… _I used to_ work in a warehouse."

"What happened?"

"I had to leave," I bluffed. I mean, it wasn't innaccurate. I had most certainly been working in a warehouse until that morning, when I'd definitely left home and not been given a choice in the matter.

"Hm…" She continued to drink without offering any actual commentary. A few seconds passed in silence. "Now it's your turn to ask me a question."

"Oh, uh…" I had to think about it. Oddly enough, I was finding this enjoyable and didn't want to accidentally send her back into the mood where she glared at me and made me feel insignificant. "Why are you a mercenary?"

 _Please don't get mad!_

"Because being in the military didn't work out for me," she answered with brutal honesty. And also a touch of anger.

 _Smooth… but maybe that has something to do with what she said earlier about Chrom being too soft._

"Do you want to be strong?"

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. Not in the 'comedic record scratch and everyone looks at you' kind of way. More like… Did she really just ask me that?

"What do you mean?"

"You asked about it earlier," she recalled. "I figured you wouldn't have asked if you weren't interested in it for yourself."

"It's…" I had to think about it. Honestly, the thought hadn't crossed my mind beyond merely being impressed with her own skills. I mean, holy shit. Those bandits might not have been the creme of the outlaw crop, but the assassin and the swordsman had gone after her without her knowing. To come back from that without a scratch seriously said something about her talents, gray hair be damned.

What about me though? I was here, in a world that I might very well have known the future to, and I honestly couldn't say that I had anything to offer. I wasn't much of a strategist, I knew effectively nothing about magic, and the only sword I'd ever touched was a fake katana one of my old friends had hung on his wall. Becoming strong almost sounded like a pipe dream when I thought about it like that.

But then I had to ask myself another question, one that I liked to bring up when I found myself facing a tough situation or difficult task.

Did I _need_ to be strong?

Before I could get any deeper into the matter, a smothered laugh came to my ears. I turned to find Fran looking rather amused once again.

"What?"

"Nothing," she claimed, waving it off. "You just looked like you were thinking really hard there for a moment."

 _I was._ "Well… It's a tough question."

"Maybe," she said with an indifferent shrug. "I was going just going to say though. If you want to get strong, it's not something that'll just come to you. It's something you work towards."

"Hard work and determination," I remembered.

"Right," She nodded. "More than once, I've met kids like you who think that if they just pick up a sword and swing it hard enough, they'll be strong enough to take on whatever comes at them. And then, also more than once, I've heard about them getting in over their head and losing everything for their trouble."

My chest tightened just a little.

"What I'm trying to say is this," she told me, hitting me with a hard stare similar to the one she'd given me earlier. "Don't take pursuit of strength lightly. It's not just about how good you are at killing things."

I paused to reflect on that. It wasn't just about the killing… _Wait! Did she know what I was thinking about the whole time?!_

"Welp, that's it for me." She laid the second stein on the counter. "Better get to bed soon. You've got a long ride tomorrow."

With that, the gray woman stood up and departed the room via the stairs. The duke's men had just finished leaving, and the server was returning from helping Harper to his room.

"Huh…" was all I could say, still very much caught up with what Fran had said to me. If not just that, then also _why_ she had said them to me.

It was like… uh...

"It's too late for me to be thinking this hard," I said just before my head hit the bar.

…

"If you're going to sleep, maybe you should go to your room."

I jolted up, finding the server cleaning the cups and giving me an exhausted grimace.

"Which one's mine?" I actually hadn't even known I'd had a room until he said it.

"Upstairs, first door on the left."

"M'kay…" I grunted before standing up… and falling right back down.

"I still can't walk." Coming to grips with impairment is harder than you think.

The trip up the steps was slow, even with the server helping me along. We arrived without incident, and I was left sitting on the bed to sort out the spiral of thoughts that remained in my head.

Fran… Did she know something? I couldn't get my head off of her. The conversation we'd just shared had seemed a little deliberate for her excuse of 'drinking buddy'. She'd done just fine drinking alone earlier. What made me so interesting that she had to stare at me and then give me a spiel about getting strong over drinks? And how had she known about my ride tomorrow?

It made me angry. If I didn't worry for my safety, I'd have gone and tried asking her about it.

As I hefted my leg onto the bed and laid down, I ultimately decided that I wasn't going to get any further until I'd spent at least six hours asleep. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and tried my hardest to forget where I was.

It actually worked... sort of.

* * *

 ***marks off list* Random bullshit action scene because what is character development? Check!**

 **Welcome back. I hope you weren't expecting something meaningful. If you were, then I apologize. Any and all scorned by this can bring a can of soup of the review page to receive a free you have a can of soup. And maybe a turtle too. I can't decide.**

 **By the way, in case anyone is wondering, I don't have a beta or anything for this. So, if it's riddled with errors, I'm the only one to blame. Not that I'm asking for volunteers or anything. I usually go through a chapter a few days after posting it and track down what errors I can. It's not the most effective strategy, seeing as I did a ton of work on the first chapter the day after posting, only to find several more errors laying around as recently as yesterday.**

 **Sigh… Well, that's about all I have time for today, WHICH MEANS ITS TIME TO BEG!**

 _ **Reviews would be appreciated, if you can find the time. I know this story isn't that great, but any helpful tidbits you lovely readers could offer would be very helpful to me. I'm terrified of criticism, and thus haven't received very much of it over the years. So, if it's not too much of a bother, please leave a review concerning your thoughts on the chapter in the box below. No review will go unnoticed, even it's something as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_

 **That said, I've been The Blocked Writer, and I hope you're having a wonderful day.**


	3. Chapter 3

Some people are morning people.

Other people are like me.

* * *

 _ **No, New York is Where I'd Rather (not) Stay!**_

 _Chapter Three - Sheep in the Big City_

* * *

You ever have one of those mornings where you just don't recognize where you are or what you're doing? It's usually after a hectic day that ended in either a hotel or a friend's house. Yeah? No? Eh…

So... I sleep kinda like a caterpillar. I wrap myself up in the blankets like a cocoon, only to emerge in morning like a butterfly. Except instead of a gross insect I emerge as a decently acceptable human being. It must be stressed though that this only happens if I wake up under my own power. If someone else wakes me up, then… well… Allow me to present you with a relevant example.

It started with suffocation. Being a nose breather of high quality, I do typically leave the upper half of my head exposed from the cocoon for oxygen purposes. This, unfortunately, proved to be a great weakness when the mischievous Lissa was up and about.

She was a talented little minx though. She let go of my nose just as I came back to the waking world in spectacular fashion.

"BAH!" I shrieked before thrashing wildly in my blanket cocoon. I flopped up and down for several seconds, having no blessed clue as to what was happening or where I was. Sound familiar? Yeah. Scared the metaphorical shit out of me, to say the least. It didn't help that the intense movement also served to agitate my injured foot, the damnable thing.

It wasn't until I finally pulled myself together and stopped with the thrashing that I picked up on Lissa's laughter. I blearily looked over, finding her there, giggling madly into her hands. Chrom was standing just aft of her, rubbing his temples like he was heavily pondering throwing himself out a nearby window.

"I'm so sorry," Chrom said with no shortage of defeat in his voice. This made it clear to me that nothing he could've said or done would've stopped her.

I, having only just then kinda-sorta having obtained some vague idea as to what had just happened, could only wave my hand at them in dismissal. Being pranked wasn't new to me, and I was far too tired from the night before to ponder the weight of how I'd just been pranked by the princess of a country, let alone the whole _fictional_ side of things. Instead I just sat up and tended to my poor leg.

"I… I couldn't resist!" Lissa heaved between fits.

 _No, I'm sure you couldn't,_ I thought to myself.

Anyway… We eventually got me down the steps, ingested a quick and uneventful breakfast, and proceeded out the door. Frederick and Harper were waiting there with horses, signalling that perhaps the remainder of our journey would be both faster and easier.

"Again, we're very sorry for what we let happen," Chrom said to the innkeeper as we mounted up.

"Oh, no! You mustn't worry about it, your lordship," Harper protested, trying his best to look like he wasn't nursing his ribs. They'd wound up broken, and, as my ankle could attest, Lissa's healing magic could only do so much. "You did as much as you could, and everybody here knows it."

Chrom opened his mouth to deny the tavern keeper's words, but seemed to decide against it. Instead he just nodded in acceptance.

I, in the meantime, was busy wondering why the hell the sun was so low in the sky.

 _How am I awake right now?_ I had to wonder as I sat wearily on the back of Frederick's horse. I could feel my eyelids begging to close, only prevented from doing so by the dull throb in my head. If my internal clock was still worth its salt, then I couldn't have gotten more than… I dunno… _five_ hours of sleep last night? Six at the most. As someone who was used to working late and sleeping later, this was going to be a problem.

"Safe travels to all of you, and may Naga bless the road." With those words, Harper returned to his dwelling and let us get underway.

Now I could bore you with the day-long tale of our travel to Ylisstol, but that would be stupid. The short version is that Lissa slept most of the way, with her riding with Chrom much like I was riding with Frederick, and I spent the entire time irritable and jealous of her. I tried sleeping, but Frederick failed to understand that I couldn't do so without leaning against his back. After the third or fourth try, he politely asked me to stop.

This left me with Stahl for company. Remember Stahl? Green armor, physics-defying brown hair, typically fought on horseback? He was there too. He'd supposedly met up with us at the tavern and accompanied the crew to the bandit hideout. He was a nice enough guy, a bit obsessed with food though.

"What kind of food do you like? Me? I'm more of a meat guy, but it never hurts to have a few greens with every meal. I've always been told that spinach is the best for you, though I think that's more of an old wives' tale. Not a lot of typical folks eat spinach. Have you ever had it? No? Well, like I said… What about figs? Fried fig cakes might just be my favorite thing ever. Do you like figs? Well, you'll have to try them. I'll pick you up some once we get into town. I know a great stall not far from the barracks. The lady there bakes them up just the way I like them."

I supposed that there could've been worse conversation partners. At least he wasn't Fran, trying to psych me out with bullshit murdery drinky psychoanalysis whatever-the-fuck.

 _Speaking of that…_

"Say, Frederick?"

"Yes?" He seemed talkative enough at the moment.

"Do you know someone named 'Fran'?"

"You mean the woman who was present last night?"

"Yeah. She mentioned you by name, and she mentioned that she'd been in the military, so I was wondering if you knew her."

The knight pondered the inquiry for a few seconds. "I can't say that I know her beyond her name, appearance, and occupation. She's earned a reputation as a skilled mercenary, but only very recently. If she was in the military, it can't have been any time recently. No doubt I would have heard of her skill sooner."

"Huh…" I let that one process for a moment. That wasn't the answer I'd expected.

"If you don't mind saying, why do you ask?" Now it was his turn to pry.

"Well, it's just that she implied that she knew where I was going today."

I felt the knight physically straighten at this news, as if he'd been put on alert. For a moment, I was worried that this conversation might turn sour.

"That's… odd."

"You didn't tell Harper and he could've told her?"

"Not a chance," I heard him mutter under his breath. "I can only assume that it was a lucky guess on her part. You don't get to be as old as she is in that line of work without being rather shrewd."

"I see," I remarked, putting that one to bed. If he was bothering to assume, then it meant he really didn't know. Or, at the very least, he wasn't going to tell me what he was actually thinking.

I could tell that it bothered him though. There was no missing how he started to crane his neck around in an attempt to scan the horizon. It wasn't too long before I noticed Stahl and Chrom doing something similar, with Stahl actually bothering to ride ahead a few times and get a clearer view of our surroundings.

Teamwork, ladies and gentlemen. Notice how they didn't even have to convey it with words.

Anyway, we traveled continuously for what felt like an eternity, and not once were we interrupted. We didn't even bother to stop for lunch, eating whatever was in our saddlebags. Frederick let me partake in some dried beef and an apple, for which I forgave his not letting me sleep. The hardest part was drinking from the canteen they'd given me. As it turned out, my balance was so bad that tilting my head back to take a drink was almost enough to make me slide clean off the horse.

Remember when I said that riding side-saddle sucked? Still applies.

Anyway, come a few hours after lunch, we hit a hill that offered quite the spectacle. A stone city surrounded by walls, gleaming in the sunlight, crested by a golden castle on a hill. Visible at the city's front was a gate receiving quite the flow of traffic via a cobblestone road far larger than the dirt path we'd been taking.

It was breathtaking at first… then I realised that the castle wasn't actually gold, and the gleam was just something in my eye. It made for a cool first impression though.

"Home at last," Lissa said as we began down the hill and towards the gate. "It feels like it's been ages."

"If by 'ages' you mean 'two weeks', then maybe," Chrom teased. "We'll make a seasoned traveler out of you yet, little sister."

"Heh, sure you will," she replied. I could almost hear her eyes rolling. "Because trekking across the wilds, hunting murderers, and eating burnt meat is such an appealing lifestyle, I just can't wait to get back to it."

I could detect a light sigh from Frederick, but the siblings both eventually fell into a mutual round of cordial laughter. I could only guess that Chrom knew Lissa was being sarcastic, but at the same time didn't really mean it. I mean, if the game was anything to go by, Lissa did plenty of traveling. Sure, she spent most of her early screen time complaining about nearly everything, but she still did her job. I guess sarcasm and complaining was just her way of dealing with it, and it was like a sibling in-joke between them.

Ah, the joys of sibling friendship.

"And what will become of our newest companion when we enter the city, milord?" Frederick inquired before things could get more irrelevant.

"Ah, yes," Chrom perked up, turning to me. "I've sent a message ahead to the castle. The healer should be ready for you when we arrive. Does that sound alright to you, Yuri?"

"Sounds good," I agreed with a nod.

With that, we made our arrival. Several people called out to Chrom and Lissa, though nobody tried to approach. Stahl rode ahead of us, apparently signalling an escort in the process. We'd barely approached the gate when a contingent of armored men and women emerged and parted the crowds for us. I had to admit that it was rather impressive to witness, even as I felt several stares bore into me. I should've expected as much, being as out of place as I was in the presence of nobility. Not one to be the center of attention, I just kinda tried to stare up at the castle. Even as we passed into the city, it remained highly visible. This was likely intentional, I figured, both as a monument and as a directional landmark.

It was surprising how simple the city was. Sure, it had Lydes beat in almost every way, but it wasn't nearly as active as I might've imagined. Whenever I thought of medieval cities, I tended to think of bustling markets and people crammed into whatever nook they could find. The reality in Ylisstol was much calmer. Foot traffic seemed relatively light, and while the main thoroughfare had several transient horse-drawn carts and whatnot, but I had trouble measuring that against what I was used to due to the differences in wheeled traffic here and that of my home.

Things eventually thinned out as we got closer to the castle, at which I garnered the opportunity to ask something.

"So where exactly is this healer you mentioned?" I brought up as we got uncomfortably close to the ascending path leading up to the royal palace.

Lissa and Chrom shared a knowing glance, the princess looking particularly excited at what was in store. Of course, the fact that their horse had just started up the incline was all the answer I needed. They were going to the castle, Frederick was going with them, and I was going with Frederick.

So I was going to be visiting the castle as well. Woo-hoo.

 _This is gonna suck. It'll be cool at first, but it'll suck. Just wait and watch._

"I assume that by now that you've deduced that milord and lady are the prince and princess of the realm," Frederick said as we rode to follow. Alas, despite everyone's familiar behavior, this had never actually been verbally established in conversation between any of us. But then, it'd never actually been a hidden thing either. Heck, even if I hadn't known from the start, I'd like to think I'd have figured it out while all the tavern-goers were praising them back in Lydes. One can only be called 'Prince Chrom' so many times before those around them pick up on it.

"I recognized them not long after we first met," I responded. Not a lie. "The brand on his shoulder is rather telling."

"Indeed. You'll be their guest in the castle while your injury is tended to. The healer should be meeting us as we arrive," Frederick explained. "I doubt that I need to tell you this, but you'll be expected to act on your best behavior. Is that understood?"

I choked back a grimace. "Understood."

 _Way to make me feel like a stupid eight-year-old…_

The trip up was nerve wracking, particularly when we passed into a second level of the city that I didn't even realize was there. You see, the hill that was peaked by the lovely palace of Ylisstol was covered in thick trees. This feature served to obscure a rounding of small manors. The homes of the Ylissean hierarchy, according to Frederick. This meant that the place was rife with people in nice clothes, making my dirty commoner's clothes stand out like a sore thumb. My shirt just had to be red, didn't it? Luckily we didn't linger.

Not to imply that arriving at the castle managed to calm me at all.

Passing through the large castle gate brought us into a courtyard laced with small trees and various smaller displays of plant life. No doubt at the right times of year, this place would be alight with flowers and whatnot. There were several sitting spots around, ranging from benches to full chair and table arrangements, establishing the place a very pleasant area that was probably open to visitors and guests at times.

Meeting us here was a small pile of individuals. A couple of maids to tend to the royals, some stable hands to take the horses, some ladies in golden armor, and two men in robes. The robed ones were what caught my attention, as they were the only ones who'd kept looking at me beyond mere acknowledgment of my presence. The frontmost one looked like he'd been around a few blocks in his time, with hair that had long since lost the battle with gray and a face sporting more wrinkles than a discarded gym shirt. The one behind him seemed much younger and, by extension, less experienced. His clean cut and primly combed hair was chartreuse, of all colors, and sitting on his nose was a pair of glasses.

These two, I guessed, would probably be involved in my healing process. How did I guess that? Well, given their scholarly appearances and focus on me, it was a simple deduction.

 _Definitely wasn't because the old guy was carrying a healing staff._

Definitely not.

Thus, as Chrom and Lissa were beset by servants and protectors, Frederick and I were approached by the robed fellows.

"Is this him, Sir Frederick?" the older one asked as he neared. Just to say, my sitting position was facing away from them, so they couldn't see my clearly injured foot.

"Indeed he is, Master Warwick," the knight replied before dismounting. He helped me down as well, and before I knew it my foot was under heavy scrutiny.

We sat ourselves on a nearby bench as the healer and his apprentice, the chartreuse lad, got to work. Needless to say, I found myself fighting off curses of pain as the man undid the brace that had been applied.

"How long ago did it happen?" the healer, Master Warwick, asked.

"Just over a day ago," Frederick answered for me, probably having noticed that I was too anguished to speak in proper words.

With some care and a little grinding of teeth, the old man removed my boot and got to work examining the foot. His hands were cold, but showed nothing but skill as they handled my foot with gentle care.

"Am I correct in assuming that Princess Lissa tended to the injury not long after it occurred?"

"Indeed," Frederick replied. Several others were walking over at this point, primarily Chrom, Lissa, the maids, and the women in golden armor. The armored ones were their royal bodyguards, by the way. It never gets brought up, so I'm telling you now.

"Ah, you're skills are improving, milady," Warwick stated, looking up at Lissa with approval.

"Hehe, well, I did learn from the best, after all," the young lady remarked with a proud smile.

"You're too kind," he accepted, implying that he was the one who'd taught her. Before I could be impressed by what that meant, the man leveled his staff over my foot.

What happened next was both relieving and slightly disturbing. The pain going away and a restoration of firmness in my ankle was great and all, but the eerie green glow and the ominous chanting as the man invoked the ritual were a little… _bizarre_. It was one of those moments, y'know, when you see something that doesn't have a rational explanation in your head's logic. As far as I knew, there wasn't really such a thing as healing magic, especially not in the capacity that it sticks you back together with no strings attached.

But then… What was happening to my foot here?

 _Spoilers; it's fucking healing magic._

"...There," Warwick spoke after a few seconds. The glow had faded, and everyone was staring at me. "How does that suit you?"

My first instinct was to flex the ankle, naturally, but hesitation reached out and stopped me before I could move it more than a inch. I froze, expecting some shooting pain, proof that what I'd seen was just some hallucination or something… but I got nothing. No pain. I moved it again, this time letting it flex all the way.

"No pain," I stated, no doubt looking like a fool with my mouth hanging open in shock. For future reference, it was here where my brain decided to disconnect from the moment and turn me into an airhead.

"Would you stand?" he requested. "Just to be sure?"

"Yes," I nodded before turning and slowly rising to my feet. Warwick moved to support me, not touching, only ready to catch. It was unnecessary though. "Nothing… It's like it never even happened."

"That's very good to hear." He was smiling as I turned to face him, though I found myself unable to properly return it. Before I could even regain my sense, I found the two of us graciously shaking hands. Surprisingly enough, he was the one who'd initiated the act.

"Thank you," I said finally, getting over my brief loss for words and acknowledging my inner gratitude. "Thank you so much!"

"It was nothing, dear boy." He was nothing if not pleased. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

"It's Yuri, sir."

"Well, Yuri, I am Warwick, Grand Master of the Ylissean Healer's Guild." _Who of what now? That sounded really important._ "It is an honor to perform my art on a friend of Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa, and I thank you for allowing me the opportunity."

At that, I was once again at a loss. The official and wordy way he spoke was way further off of my comfort level than what Lissa and Chrom had been offering. Then there was the light applause that came from the small crowd surrounding us. It was rather subdued, almost like golf clapping. Most of the audience didn't even seem all that interested. It all served to throw me off to where I simply couldn't think of what to say or do next.

 _Also, did he just call me their friend?_

"I think you overdid it a little, Master," Lissa remarked, not even trying to suppress the giggles under her words. No doubt my speechlessness was showing very clearly on my face.

"Oh my, it seems I have," the old man said in agreement, seeming just a little amused in his own right. "Do you need to sit down again, Yuri?"

"N-No..." I shook my head, both to affirm my words and knock some sense back into me. Inwardly I had to be thankful for the prompt, otherwise I might've stood there in quandary forever. "Just not used to all the pomp and circumstance, is all."

"Ah," Warwick accepted, his eyes passing onto the surrounding maids, bodyguards, and one errant stablehand. "Can we get some space for the patient?"

Believe it or not, some of the crowd actually stepped back. Cue easier breathing.

"I'm sure Her Grace, the Exalt, wishes to see the both of you, milord," Frederick chimed in, speaking to Chrom.

"No doubt," the prince responded before turning to me for a moment. "Yuri, do you mind terribly if we go and see our sister? You'll be free to remain in the guest wing for now."

"Please, don't let me keep you," I offered, hoping that would be the polite thing to say. I mean, honestly, why the hell was he asking me? It's not like I had the authority to stop him.

 _He was being polite, fuckhead. It's a two-way street._

My lack of honest empathy aside, they were off not long after that, with Lissa claiming that they'd see me later. It was nice to hear, even if I was still too airheaded to comprehend the consequences of such a claim.

Meanwhile, this left me with just Warwick and the chartreuse-haired lad for guidance.

"So… what am I supposed to be doing now?"

"Honored guest."

I jumped a little at the unexpected voice. It was clearly that of a young lady, ruling out the old man and his follower. But they were the only two with me, so what the fuck?

"Behind you, sir," the voice explained. I wheeled around, and that was when I found myself brought back to earth. The bewilderment and excitement from the previous moment dissipated, and it was all thanks to our speaker here. She was young, probably of a similar age to Lissa, and wore the same outfit as the maids that had been waiting for the royals. Her hair was lilac, adding to my mounting list of odd hair colors encountered, though her eyes were a more plain light blue.

I just wish she'd been smiling when I first looked at her. Instead her expression was one of stonefaced indifference. I mean, sure, she probably thought she was being respectful by not inflicting her emotions on the one she was supposed to be serving, but that wasn't something I bought into. I prefered the people around me to act like people, not machines.

Regardless, it was this young lady and her stony expression that pulled me off of Planet Airhead and back into reality.

"If you would be so kind as to follow me, I shall lead you to the guest wing," she stated. Her voice was very calming, I'd say. Disarming, even.

 _Disconcerting, more like._

"Uh, okay?" I spoke, still somewhat in the process of pulling myself back together. I took a moment to turn back to Warwick before going. "Thank you again, sir. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"Ah, certainly not," he chuckled, waving me off. "Just take good care of yourself from here on out."

"Contrarily, you could inform us if anything feels off with the affected area." This marked the first time young mister Chartreuse spoke, and damn if he didn't sound every bit as educated as his appearance suggested. Every word that came out of his mouth was pronounced cleanly and clearly. "Not to discredit the master's work, but oversights and issues do crop up from time to time, and it wouldn't do for you to ignore them."

"What my apprentice is trying to say, Yuri, is that it would be good of you stop by our workshop in the western tower before you depart," Warwick iterated, sounding vaguely amused, maybe also slightly bothered, by the lad's interjection. "Or just stop by if you need anything at all, in fact. We would be thrilled to show you more of our work, if it interests you."

"I'll consider it, thanks," I gave my default response to offers that didn't appeal to me. Don't get me wrong, I thought Warwick and healing magic was cool and all, but walking into their den and getting a random lecture on the subject sounded a little… _schooly_. I hated school, in case you were wondering. If I was going to be doing research on magic, then I'd be doing it on my own time.

I said my farewells to the men, and then it was off to the guest wing with me. First impressions of Castle Ylisstol from the inside? Pretty freaking snazzy. Nice floors of various styles and materials, walls chock full of interesting decor, and a decent amount of architectural pragmatism. The ceiling wasn't absurdly high, there were only pillars where necessary, and the statues of what I presumed to be Naga were only marble rather than solid gold. For some reason I had this absurd notion in the back of my head that castles, particularly those of royals, were to be drenched in ridiculous lavishness and overbearing splendor. This place, while nice, felt far more subdued.

So it wasn't Versailles, and I was just fine with that. It made dealing with certain things much easier. Things like, for example, the fact that people just couldn't help but stare at me. Like, what did they think was going on? Every time a member of the guard or one the robed hierarch types came close enough to spot me, their eyes remained fixed as if drawn by some unholy power. You'd think some of them had never seen a guy in a red shirt before. I dealt with it by imagining how absurd it would be if I'd been wearing the shirt I'd had on before leaving my room. If my past life experiences were anything to go by, nobody, and I mean _nobody_ , in Ylisse was ready for Black Sabbath.

 _I wonder what my odds of finding a guitar in this place are…_

"This will be your room," the maid spoke, shaking me out of my whimsy. I was a little surprised. We'd gone up some stairs, but that hadn't taken very long.

"Okay," I supposed before absentmindedly reaching for the door.

"Allow me," the girl interjected before, like a damn ghost, swooping ahead of me and opening the wooden portal herself. It was only here that it occurred to me that she may be intentionally trying to make me uncomfortable. Or maybe this was just maid protocol, and I was the one acting out of turn. Or maybe no one was out of turn and I was thinking too hard. That was always possible, really to the point of being probable.

Anyway, she completed her swoop and was now holding the door open for me to pass through. I did so, and…

"What the…?"

Suddenly it felt like my life was progressing far too quickly. The room was… _fancy_ , for lack of a better word. I'm talking about light, calming colors, lovely hardwood flooring, and a bed that could comfortably fit me and then some. Don't even get me started on the furniture. The whole unit wasn't even that big, maybe amounting to something just slightly smaller than my bedroom back home. It had everything I'd need though; an armoire, a bookshelf, multiple sitting chairs, and even a freaking desk.

Of course, pointing that out implies I planned to stay. Don't get the wrong idea. I had no extra clothes for the armoire, no books for the shelf, no extra butts to put in the chairs, and definitely no work to do at a desk. I didn't even do work at my desk back home. That thing was solely a prop for my computer monitor and speakers. Considering the lack of digital visual tech in Ylisse, it was very likely that the piece would be ignored and wasted during my stay.

"Is it to your liking?" the maid asked after the tenth second of me standing there gobsmacked.

"Are you sure you haven't made a mistake?" I had to ask, once again trying to pull myself back into reality. The problem, as I was quickly discovering, was that I wasn't entirely sure what 'reality' meant anymore. Not after all of the leaps in locale I'd made in the prior forty-eight hours. From suburban America, to the middle of goddamn nowhere, to a farm village in a fictional country, to a royal palace in that same fictional country. Where the hell was I going, and why was I going there?

"This is the room that was allotted to you for the duration of your stay," she all but repeated her words from earlier.

I twitched a little before turning to face the maid. She tilted back just a bit, her expression having broken from the stony indifference to form one betraying concern. Whether it was concern for me or for herself was yet to be determined.

I opened my mouth to say something, probably some kind of ridiculous complaint about how I couldn't possibly stay in this room because it was far too nice, but then I stopped myself, said nothing of the sort, and calmed myself.

 _This… I can get over this._

"Thank you," I offered after just a few awkward seconds too many.

"You're very welcome," she responded with a grateful curtsy. "Also, I'm to inform you that you'll be expected to dine with the Exalt tonight."

 _ **WHAT?!**_

The maid could only watch in confusion as I went slack and collapsed onto the bed, my face etched in unbridled shock.

"I shall go draw a bath for you," she stated before departing. The door closed behind her, and now there was nothing to stop me from glaring at the ceiling in despair.

 _I was right. This was cool at first, but now it sucks._

* * *

 **I don't like this chapter. It just feels pointless. Now, I know it's not** _ **actually**_ **pointless, as I do indeed plan on paying off multiple of the characters introduced in it, but… Gah! It's just traveling and random events. Poorly written ones at that! What the hell was the narration during the healing bit? Why did I have it staged in the courtyard with a crowd watching? (I actually have an answer to this; it was because I didn't want to disrupt the flow of the chapter, everything after that being circumstantial) Why did they golf clap? I don't even know. I think it sounded funny at the time I wrote it (some time last week, I think), but now it's just kinda cringy. I'm leaving it in though. If I don't call this thing done here, then I'll wind up starting over on it, and if I start over on it… well… Let's just say that chapter four looks less likely by the minute.**

 **Do you know when the last time I wrote a fourth chapter to anything was? As a hint, Kyle Katarn was still a canon Star Wars character back then.**

 **Meanwhile… Begging time!**

 _ **Reviews would be appreciated, if you can find the time. I know this story isn't that great, but any helpful tidbits you lovely readers could offer would be very helpful to me. I'm terrified of criticism, and thus haven't received very much of it over the years. So, if it's not too much of a bother, please leave a review concerning your thoughts on the chapter in the box below. No review will go unnoticed, even it's something as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_

 **That said, this has been The Blocked Writer, and I hope you're having a wonderful day.**


	4. Chapter 4

Let it be known that the most formal event I'd ever attended prior to arriving in Ylisse was my sister's wedding.

And it only ranks higher than the other weddings I'd been to because I actually had to be a groomsman.

Funerals don't count.

* * *

 ** _And Now For Something Completely (not) Different_**

 _Chapter Four - Pleasant People_

* * *

"Am I allowed to express my displeasure for these garments?" I asked against my better judgment.

"I'll have to advise against doing so," The maid once again refused to indulge me. "You're a guest of the Exalt. Any sign that you are displeased with what's been provided to you would be seen as an insult to her quality as a host."

I hadn't expected the harrowing adventure that'd been required to get me ready for this dinner with royalty. We'd crossed the castle three times, once to get me into a bath, again to get me some decent clothes, and a third time to return us to room I'd been given. By the time it came to get me dressed up, I felt exhausted. That was before the maid asked me to stand up and allow her to dress me. She'd scoffed when I said I could do it myself, same as when I said I could bathe myself.

Yes, she saw me naked. Yes, I was extremely embarrassed. Let's move on.

At this point we were standing in front of the three-quarters mirror hanging on the inside of the armoire door. I was in front, glowering at my dressed up form. She was behind me, going over my silhouette with the medieval version of a lint roller.

"I wouldn't say it in front of the Exalt. Or anyone else of significant station, actually," I tried to explain. "I just want to know it why it's bright red."

Sure enough, the dress robes I'd been granted were practically glowing ruby red. I'd been assured that they were stylish by the man who'd given them to me, but the way his assistant had looked at me suggested that this was all leading up to some kind of punchline. The robes were the joke, I was the victim, and, by some stretch of the imagination, Lissa was comedian.

"You were wearing red when you arrived," she stated. "I can only assume that the designer was told this and picked out the outfit accordingly."

Yes, that's right. They had a royal designer, and, if the five minutes she'd spent taking my measurements were anything to go by, she was a truly terrifying excuse for a human being. Every disappointed sneer she'd given while examining had made me nauseas, mostly out of fear that she'd kick me out of the castle or something.

"I don't suppose it's too late to ask for something gray."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you," she countered. I inwardly swore. "Just hold yourself with dignity and focus on your manners. You'll forget all about the clothes."

 _Don't count on it._ "Speaking of the manners, can we go over that again?"

She'd given me the basics of high society table manners during the bath session. Complicated didn't even begin to cover it. Multiple types of spoon and fork? What the hell kind of world was this?

"Don't stare, don't talk, refer to the Exalt as 'Your Grace' unless otherwise requested, don't eat until she does, and, for Naga's sake, don't put your elbows on the table," she summed up several minutes of conversation in five seconds. I was appreciative. "Anything else?"

I was about to ask her how long until it was time to go, but a knock on the door stopped me.

"Yes?" I called on reflex.

"It's Chrom. May I come in?"

 _Oh boy…_

"Sure."

The mood in the air changed quickly, with the maid releasing me and moving into a respectful position. Her hands came together and rested in front of her, fingers laced, and her head bowed. All that before Chrom had even fully opened the door.

He was dressed very similar to me, albeit with a little more regality and less loud colors. This was good for me, since I'd honestly expected him to just be wearing the same thing he'd been wearing earlier, given how little he seemed to care for this sort of thing in the games. His jacket was navy with silver buttons, the same colors as his combat gear, and everything else was a similar yet appropriate color, sans the shirt which was just white. I dare say that he looked like a proper nobleman. Heck, he'd even gotten his hair combed.

"Ah," He sounded pleasantly surprised. His eyes did linger a little on my garb, but whatever he thought of them went unvoiced. "You've done good work with him, Cybil."

"Thank you, milord," the maid responded. I shot her the briefest of glances her way, having completely forgotten to ask her name up until this point.

"You clean up rather well yourself… _milord_ ," I attempted to give my own compliment, nearly choking before getting the honorific out. The prince was quick to catch me afterward though.

"Don't start with that," he implored, his tone remaining friendly while being insistent. "It's bad enough that I can't stop the servants from doing it. If friends and guests start doing it too, I'll be driven mad."

"I see," I said, relieved by this news. It was hard enough accepting that Chrom was real. Having to treat him with the utmost respect would've simply been torture. I remembered too well his awkward support conversations with Sumia and the female Robin. I knew the ridiculous amount of dorkiness he was capable of.

"Regardless," the prince pushed that aside. "I was hoping you would accompany me to the dining hall. Lissa is exhausted and would like to eat early so that she can get to bed."

So we were moving the schedule up so that Lissa could hit the hay early? Had she not slept the whole way here? I must've imagined that.

"Sounds fine to me," I said, not being in the place to question royalty. Besides, in all honesty, I was probably faring as bad if not worse than the princess. I may have been suppressing it in front of Chrom and the maid, but damn if I wasn't struggling to keep my eyes open. If it hadn't been for that bath, I probably would've passed out by now.

"Shall I have the bed ready for when you return, sir?" the mai- _Cybil_ asked before we left.

"S-Sure," I stammered out, embarrassed at the idea that I couldn't even make my own bed in this place. "Thank you."

With that in place she curtsied, at which Chrom and I began our journey to the dining hall.

"Not used to being waited on, I take it," the main character of the setting asked me once we were out of the lass's earshot.

"I haven't had that much attention paid to my care since before I could walk," I couldn't help but admit.

"I've heard it takes some getting used to," he said in concurrence. "Most of my people, the Shepherds, avoid the castle because of it."

I looked at him, wondering where this conversation could possibly be going. "The Shepherds… That's the force that you lead, going about fighting bandits and whatnot, correct? Stahl and Frederick are members?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," he nodded. "It's not all fighting bandits though. For the good of the realm, we're required to do a great many things. Sometimes we solve more civil disputes, or help in construction or reconstruction projects."

"I see," I went along with this, though I honestly couldn't recall any of that being in the game. But then maybe thinking about this in comparison with the game wasn't the best idea anymore. Time to change the subject. "So, may I ask what's being served for dinner?"

"I actually don't know," the prince admitted, causing me to hold back a snerk. "I was so busy pushing myself to stay awake while getting ready that I completely forgot to ask. They'll tell us before it's brought out though."

"Good to hear," I remarked. I hated surprises, especially when it came to food.

It was here that we rounded a corner and arrived in a large reception hall. For now, since there were no guests to receive, this was where we were to wait while a servant when into the dining hall to announce us. Chrom and Lissa would go first, with me being required to go in last. As far as I knew, there weren't any other guests.

We were met by an older fellow with white hair and a suit. I could only assume that he was some kind of butler.

"Lord Chrom," the man greeted my host with a proper bow. He then turned to me. "And this must be Mister Yuri."

"Yuri, this is Jeigan," Chrom introduced the gentleman. Jeigan moved in kind, bowing my way respectfully. "He's been serving our family for generations now."

"It's an honor to serve the Exalt, her family, and their guests," he stated before straightening up to full height. A rehearsed line, but I couldn't help but feel endeared by it nonetheless.

"Shall we go in, or are we to be introduced?" Chrom asked, moving on before the moment could be lengthened by further conversation.

"There are no other guests in the hall, milord," Jeigan explained. "Thus the Exalt has requested that you both be shown in immediately. Princess Lissa has already gone in."

"I could have guessed," Chrom muttered before nodding. "Very well then. Shall we?"

With that established, Jeigan led us into the dining hall. It was… surprisingly small, to be honest. The table here was only large enough for twelve or so sitters, and the walls were so littered with decor that it made the room look like it belonged in a building far smaller than the one we were in. While I'd later find out the reasoning for this, I couldn't help but be taken aback by it.

Sitting at the table's head was of course Emmeryn, the Exalt, leader of the free world by day and older sister to the game's protagonists by night. She was looking at me, as was predictable, and I am proud to say that I didn't flinch in response to her perfectly kind smile. I may have even smiled back, though saying that implies that I had the presence of mind to do anything other than glance around awkwardly. To her immediate left was Lissa dressed in a very nice green gown that seemed much more sensible than the one she'd been traveling in. To Emmeryn's right were two pulled out chairs. Chrom took the one nearest his sister, leaving the other for me.

 _Five bodyguards, all with stony faces normally resigned to actual statues. Three golden armored women, like the ones from the courtyard earlier. Two flanking the Exalt, the third behind Lissa. Frederick aft of Chrom, no doubt filling the same role he was playing before. The fifth…_

 _Plain white armor, a winged circlet instead of the golden helmets of their fellow guards, short black hair, dark eyes, behind my chair…_

It made sense, I supposed. Why would I have a royal guards when they could just pull one of the lower ranks? Or, considering the fact that everyone in the room was staring at me, bodyguards included, it was possible that the mismatched guard was actually some kind of assassin meant to kill me if I so much as flinched in Emmeryn's direction. Those golden armors were far more ornate and had to be rather heavy. Lady White Armor didn't seem nearly as encumbered with her lack of abdomen protection. She was probably a pegasus knight, if the games were anything to go by.

At least she had the sense to wear something over her thighs. Anime this was not.

With me and Chrom in place, the chef emerged from behind someone and introduced the meal. While I could barely understand the man through his accent, I picked up that the main dish was some kind of cream stew. Getting a closer look as it was served told me that this was definitely the case. My bowl was filled with a off-white broth helped with the meats and vegetables, and sides were offered in the form of a piece of bread and something green with a brown sauce applied. Whatever the case, Lissa seemed to perk up considerably as it was served. Considering that they'd moved up the whole meal just because of her, it wasn't a stretch to assume that this was something she liked quite a lot.

And then the chef and his footmen scurried off, leaving us to the meal. A light prayer praising Naga was offered, and then the Exalt began eating.

 _Ohmygodthislooksdelicio-_

"Yuri," Emmeryn wasted no time in addressing me once she and everyone else had taken their opening bites. I'd been so taken aback that hadn't even reached for my spoon yet. "I apologize for not greeting you when you arrived. I was delayed in a meeting with the hierarchs."

Her expression and voice both seemed genuine, even if they betrayed little obvious emotion. A kindhearted smile, a calm tone using intelligent words. If I had to describe how she seemed, I'd have to say 'content'… or maybe 'pleasant'. Like she wanted to seem as if there were no hard feelings to be had, or at least try and use her own natural aura to prevent me from holding as such. I got the feeling that she knew precisely how she was projecting as well, a fact hinted by her word choice. She wasn't treating me like I was some yokel. I couldn't be certain what Chrom and Lissa had said about me, but it must've been positive enough to instil a sense of courtesy.

How she held herself aside, it took a few seconds for me to unfreeze. Needless to say, I hadn't expected the first thing Emmeryn said to me to be an apology, assuming she'd ever speak to me at all.

"It's no issue, Your Grace," I said as words finally came to me. "I feel honored simply by the opportunity to meet you at all, in fact."

That's the version of what I said with the cautious pauses and terrified stammering removed.

Yes, Lissa giggled. It took all the fortitude I could muster to keep from shooting her an annoyed glance.

"Lissa and Chrom told me of the hardship they caused you," Emmeryn continued. "I hope you can find some way to forgive them."

My face widened a little in shock at that. Hardship? Did she mean the foot thing? "Oh, it wasn't anything too serious. And I could hardly blame them for it. I tripped because of a decision I made, so I believe it was my own fault."

 _Talk slowly. Choose your words. Don't seem overly familiar. You just met these people yesterday, and they're leaps and bounds more important than you are. DO NOT TAKE THEM FOR GRANTED OR INSULT THEM._

"If anything, they did nothing but help. They got me here, introduced me to the healer, and asked for nothing in return." All true… so far as I could recall, at least. "I honestly can't be anything other than grateful towards them."

It wasn't until after I was done that I noticed Lissa blushing and averting her eyes as she shoveled a large spoonful of broth into her mouth. Chrom was simply smiling, probably with pride. Emmeryn seemed amused enough as well, so I was able to feel pleased that I'd handled that the right way.

"It warms my heart to you hear you say that," the holy woman claimed. I almost winced at the flowery phrase. _Almost._ "Though I was moreso referring to the incident at the tavern. It must have been quite harrowing."

"Emm…" Chrom sounded as if he didn't wish to talk about it. I glanced at him, and he looked from his sister to me. His distaste was stifled, but not completely hidden. I had to assume that he felt responsible for the incident since the bandits had come looking for him. Did he think I blamed him for that?

"Ah," I acknowledged before shaking my head. "I really hadn't thought of it in terms of blame. If I had to blame someone, it'd be the bandits. People who prey on others are the problem, I say. If they hadn't been that way, then what happened would have never occurred."

And I said that with a surprising amount of clear-headed thought. No stammering either. I fidgeted a little in spite of myself, but the words seemed to have struck well enough with the table.

"Yeah!" Lissa declared once she'd finished with another swallow of stew.

"Right," Chrom offered with an agreeing nod. He still sounded troubled about it, but at least his expression had gone from sour to vaguely pleased.

"Well said," Emmeryn stated, though her own expression had fallen slightly. I got the impression that she had feelings about what I'd said, but if that was the case she refused to share them. "But that's enough about such dark things. I'd like to know more about you, Yuri."

I froze again. Only here did I realize that I hadn't come up with a backstory for myself yet.

Fortunately it never came to that. Again I was left assuming what Lissa and Chrom had shared with their sister concerning me, though I was able to guess that perhaps they'd told her about my refusal to tell them where I was from. That was one question that remained absent for the duration of the conversation. Mostly they asked about likes and dislikes, receiving mine and sharing their own. They even chatted amongst themselves a few times, which I took a saving grace since it allowed me chances to get some stew into me. I'd been so nervous early on in the meal that I'd nearly forgotten to eat.

Once the food was finished, we settled in for tea and coffee. Lissa excused herself after a single cup, and her bodyguard took her to her room. I remained and chatted with the older two for a while longer.

"Yuri, if you don't mind me asking," Chrom said once we were well into our second cups. He had black coffee while I'd gone for a single cream and sugar each. "What do you plan on doing now that your foot is healed?"

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I froze again. It was here that my brain finally kicked me and made a note to really start thinking ahead before talking to these people. For some reason I'd come into this meal expecting them to just ignore me or something. This might've been the case if we were back home in the 21st century, where people were more content to talk about their day or current events and pop culture. Clearly Ylisse and its people were more curious and open than the denizens of my home, and thus were more likely to ask about you and your plans while also telling you their own.

Note that Chrom had been transparent about the Shepherds on our walk over. Sure, it had only been two or three sentences, but when you considered what the organization did and who was counted among its members, it wouldn't do to just go telling just anyone about it. For the record, if I recalled correctly, then most if not all of the members at the start of the game were somehow related to nobility and/or high society.

Not that I was supposed to know that. The point is that I had to answer Chrom's question truthfully.

"I have no idea, honestly," I said with a shrug. "I've been on such a whirlwind these past few days that I can't even be sure of what tomorrow will hold."

No lies there.

Chrom looked thoughtful towards my statement, as did Emmeryn for a moment. I took this as a chance to drink a tall sip of coffee. This conversation was going somewhere crazy. The air was becoming thick and awkward. Aligning with that train of thought, it was Emmeryn who ultimately broke the silence.

"I've been told that you're disinclined to say, but I would like to know where you're from, Yuri," the Exalt requested.

 _A change of subject. If she was trying to dodge awkwardness she went the wrong way._

I almost, _almost_ froze again, but managed to avoid it with a well-timed exhale. As she'd pointed out, it wasn't a question I wanted to answer. I didn't even want to think about it, but… She sounded concerned, wore it on her face even. That and everyone else in the room was staring at me. These facts are what made me consider doing something foolish. I debated the intelligence of telling them the truth. Not the whole truth of course, but enough to where I could say I didn't lie. I needed to get the point across without alienating them.

"Well…" I took a deep breath. "Suffice to say, I'm from very far away. Across the sea, if you get my meaning."

"Further than Valm, you mean," Chrom reasoned, bringing up the neighboring continent.

"Much further," I elaborated, nodding all the same.

"We know little of the world beyond these continents," the prince explained. "Few ships have survived passage across the great oceans, and the ones that have are not well documented."

"Well, I can tell you that it's very different yet also very much the same," I tried to be vague without leaving them completely in the dark.

"You seem very intent on not giving specifics," Emmeryn pointed out regardless. "If it's not too much to ask, what were your reasons for leaving?"

I took a deep breath. "I didn't leave because I wanted to. It's… I'm not really sure how to explain it."

 _This is harder than I thought it would be._

A few silent moments passed as I pondered where to go from here in the conversation. The more I said, the more I realized that allowing this thread to be spun might've been a mistake. I really, _really_ didn't want to tell Emmeryn and Chrom that I was from another world. Even if the game had a setup for this kind of thing, what with the Outrealm Gate and all, I didn't know enough about it to just up and talk about it like it was normal. What if it wasn't normal? What if it didn't exist at all and I was just guessing at bullshit? I mean, we clearly weren't in the events of the game at this moment. Sure, things looked similar, but there were clear fundamental differences. Those guys in the tavern hadn't had hit points. Faust had died in one hit, and blood had gushed from his wound rather than anime light. Thus it was safe to say that this reality wasn't tied down by that path of logic.

And when I placed that fact in front of me, it became a lot harder to pretend like I knew what I was doing.

"We're not going to force anything out of you."

I turned to Chrom, not having expected him to say that. A wave of relief washed over me all the same.

"Thank you," I responded. "I'm not comfortable discussing it, to be honest."

"And that's fine," Emmeryn was quick to claim. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to cause you discomfort."

 _Politeness is such a nice thing._

 _...I just wish the bodyguards would stop glaring at me. No doubt they don't like my unsaid past one bit._

"Oh, it's no trouble, Your Grace." I was quick to throw my own manners back into place. "But I believe I need to return to my room. The past few days are catching up with me rather quickly, and I hate to lose consciousness at the table."

 _Gottabailgottabailgottabailgottabail…_

"I understand," Emmeryn nodded with the tiniest of amused smiles. In that second her eyes flicked to the soldier at my back. I inwardly hoped that she was simply noticing the woman and not, say, giving her the signal to kill me in the night.

My impending assassination aside, the royal siblings bade me goodnight. I was escorted from the room by aforementioned soldier, and we walked silently back the way I'd come with Chrom earlier. I was a little surprised to see Jeigan standing precisely where I'd found him earlier, but we exchanged pleasant goodnights all the same. No doubt he had to wait for Chrom and Emmeryn to leave before he could go.

Once we hit the corridors, I found myself losing the social energy that had been quietly fueling me during the dinner. It'd been so nice and the food so good that I'd nearly forgotten that I was exhausted. I'd just used it as an excuse to get out of there, but now that I was walking towards my room in the dark, I could barely stand.

"Are you alright?" the soldier asked me. She'd seen me starting to sag. "It's only a little further now."

Her voice was refreshingly kind and laid back, and she even went so far as to yawn as she turned back to keep leading me. I say it was refreshing because of how stonefaced all of the bodyguards had seemed back in the dining hall, not to mention my multiple avenues of thought regarding this particular one having orders to kill me. To see that she was affable made it much easier to relax as we zeroed in on my room.

Not to imply that she still wasn't armed and dangerous. She just didn't seem ready to kill me just yet.

 _Stop thinking about that. Why would they kill you?_

 _Because I know about the divot in the castle wall that Lucina uses to sneak in?_

 _...Shit. Yeah, they'll definitely kill you for that._

"Here you go," she announced as he arrived at the door. Unlike the maid, she actually made to open the door without hesitating.

"Thank you very much," I said as genuinely as I could manage.

Inside, candelabra in hand as moonlight poured in through the window, was Miss Hesitation herself. Cybil the maid had done as asked and readied things for me here. The bedding was pulled back for me to lay under, silk pajamas had been laid for me wear, and I now had two women aware of where I was sleeping.

Yes, that last one was important. In case you haven't already assumed it, I wasn't exactly Casanova. If anything, I was very nervous around women when it came to my privacy. Especially with women I'd only just met that day.

"Evening, Cybil," the soldier greeted the maid by name. The maid made a cordial humming noise in response, and then the soldier left with the door still open.

Long story short, Cybil filled me in on the bell pull system. Apparently I had to ring one if I wanted breakfast. And after that I was left in the candlelit dimness. I donned the PJs, hating them even though they were very comfortable and fit like gloves, and then blew out the candles before settling into the bed.

It was delightful. Like sleeping on a cloud…

 _They're going to kill the shit out of you._

 _Guh…_

When I woke up, I was… _Wait. This isn't right._

" _Careful, it's learning."_

I found myself in dark space. No light seemed to be generated, and yet there was clearly the outline of a person sitting in front of me. They were cross-legged on the floor, which was odd to rationalize since there was no floor. I couldn't even feel one beneath me.

" _Confused yet?"_ The voice was coming from the outline, so I assumed that they were the speaker. Its voice and shape were ambiguous in terms of gender, though their accent struck me as celtic.

"Very." My own voice was less spoken and more imagined, but it seemed to be put across all the same.

" _Have no fear. This is just a little pocket of space for us to chat in. No harm will befall you here."_ Not having experienced anything like this before, I didn't have much choice but to take their word for it. " _If it helps, think of it like a dream."_

"Don't peel back the curtain too far," I advised. "Mystery adds effect, y'know."

" _You say that like I'm an illusionist or something."_

"You're trying to sell me on this moment right, even though you've fabricated it. That's illusionism if you ask me."

Fact. And yes, I was way more of a smart-ass in my dreams than in real life. Considering that nothing had sold me on this as anything other than a dream, I hadn't managed to pull my real-world mannerisms into my mind yet. Besides, the thing itself had told me to think of this as a dream, and that no harm would befall me. If they wanted me to stand up straight, then I was happy to oblige.

" _Ooh, aren't we clever?"_ They didn't sound impressed. The sarcasm was strong with this one. " _I could make it considerably less pleasant, if you desire. Maybe some hellfire, a little brimstone…"_

"This is fine, thanks." I elected to pass. "What're we doing here?"

" _I just wanted to know how you were settling in. It's a big change, switching worlds and all."_

 _So that's what this is about._ Thoughts unspoken…

" _Indeed,"_ the entity replied, spelling it out for me that I had no secrets here.

"If you can read my mind, then why are you even asking?"

" _Well, it's a matter of politeness, of course,"_ it claimed. " _Not that I'd expect an antisocial barbarian like you to understand."_

I didn't even have to think coherently to let it know how I felt about being called 'antisocial'. I wanted to think that I'd just spent a whole dinner being the exact opposite of that.

" _He says as he keeps his past a secret to people who've opened their home to him, clothed him, fed him, and been nothing but friends to him."_

I neared a tipping point. It damn well knew my reasons, and they were perfectly fine ones at that.

" _Ah, sorry, sorry!"_ it backpedalled. " _I just can't resist with the insults sometimes. Existence can be such a bore sometimes, going on and on, being nice to everyone. Sometimes you have to let a few zingers rip, press a person's buttons. You know what I mean."_

The last part was very much a statement, not a question. I knew exactly what it meant, and I didn't like it.

"You sure are taking advantage of me right now," I remarked. "Even without me saying it, you know that I'm not pleased about being in Ylisse. Now you've got me held hostage in a conversation so you can poke fun of me for it. Dick move, man. Dick move."

" _Hmph."_ They refused to dignify my scolding of them with an actual comment. " _I suppose I'm just wasting my time here then."_

"I suppose you are too. When do I get to go home?"

" _Go home? Pfft-"_

I woke up to the smell of rain. Instantly upright in the bed, I found myself breathing hard and staring into space.

 _What the hell was that all about?_

 _Who knows? Also you're not dead._

Grunting a noncommittal affirmation, I got out of bed and went for the door. Time to see what passed for a toilet in this place.

* * *

 **Needless to say, I'm absolutely disgusted with how long it took me to finish this chapter. It's not that it took me all that long to write, I just kinda gave up on it somewhere between getting Yuri out of his room and the dinner actually starting. I'm not pleased with the finished product at all either. It all just seems kind of bland, and the conversation between Emmeryn and Yuri doesn't flow at all. I was trying to imply that she was slightly uncomfortable with the convo as well, but I think I blew it. What do you think? Be sure to not tell me because you're not reading this.**

 **I should also note that the completion of this chapter, such that it is, does not mark me breaking my 'No Chapter Four' streak mentioned in the previous author's note. I actually started a completely new (unposted) story and got it to chapter four before getting this done. If that doesn't prove that I've got no self-control and severely skewed priorities, I don't know what will.**

 **No more begging for reviews. Aye...**

 **That debatably harsh bout of negativity said, this has been The Blocked Writer, and I hope you're having a wonderful day.**


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